as my last dying wish can you draw paleo/primal . plspls

kisses u on the forehead. you can rest now anon

A kiss at long rest may be quite continental 💎✨

need to kiss him until we’re both silly and delirious and giggling, until we’re both grabbing at each other’s shoulders and sides and arms, until we’re both half hazardously stumbling our way backwards onto the couch in a heap of laughter just so we can be as close as possible and we’re clumsily bumping foreheads and noses. need to kiss him until he can’t stop smiling and until we’re both stupidly lovestruck and just clinging to each other

i’ll keep your memory in my he(art) forever.

retail hell reader is being bothered by an uncomfortably friendly customer and tf141 handle it in their own ways.

warnings: female!reader (she/her pronouns) isn’t being overtly harassed but you know when a man is being too interested and too friendly? its that. egregious use of scots as inspired by still game, pet names “love”, “hen” and “bonnie girl” used to refer to f!reader.

word count: 1.5k

pairings: kyle garrick x reader, john mactavish x reader, simon riley x reader, john price x reader.

each reader x named character interaction should be read as a standalone but i stuck them all together as they were too short to post individually in my opinion.

- -

this customer is making you nervous as fuck. you don't think you've been inappropriate with him in any way, just polite and friendly as you sorted out his refund. the problem is that he's massive, easily taller than simon by a couple of inches and he keeps looming over you blaming his difficulty understanding english as to why he keeps getting closer and closer. he's practically mounting the customer service desk to peer down at you (and you have a horrible feeling he's trying to get a look down your polo top).

you're beginning to panic so you do the only thing you think to do (which admittedly is pretty stupid looking back on it) and make your excuses to leave the customer service desk to find one of your friends. or at least find a colleague who will act as a witness if this guy gets any creepier.

gaz handles it like a champ. as soon as he spots the creep following you around he's there. arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side at the kitchen consultant's desk. his customer service smile is fixed on his face and he refuses to even acknowledge this giant arsehole of a man, just keeps talking to you softly and shows you the kitchen he’s working on. kyle’s beautiful brown eyes only briefly leave your face so he can point out another favourite part of his design, he never once looks over at the creep. it works to soothe you, especially being so close to him. after ten minutes of being blatantly ignored, the creep walks off muttering under his breath. hopefully he’s left the store but unfortunately it’s around that time that kyle has a couple walk up to him asking him if he’s free for a drop in consultation. before he agrees he checks in with a gentle “you alright if i take this appointment, yeah? come straight back if that guy is still hanging around. i’ll deal with him.” he looks so serious you believe him. you reassure him that you’ll be fine and he gives your arm a gentle squeeze before you separate from his warmth already missing the slightly woody scent of his cologne. before you’re completely out of earshot you hear the couple cooing over how cute kyle was with you and his reply of “well, it’s not exactly hard when she’s one of my favourite colleagues…” and the fondness in his voice makes your cheeks heat up. 

-

johnny nearly trips over you as you’re crouched behind the paint desk. “steamin’ jesus, what’re ya daein’ under there hen?” you hush him quickly and silently with a finger raised to your lips. you don’t want to speak because you know the giant is still out there looking for you, you thought you’d given him the slip near the paint brushes but then he’d rounded the end of the aisle so you darted for the relative safety of the paint desk. johnny crouches down next to you and whispers “are we hidin’ from someone? is it simon?” you shake your head and go to answer him but then your blood runs cold as you hear that familiar accented voice. “excuse me? i was wondering if you might help, i’m looking for the fräulein who was helping me?” johnny shoots a look at you and you squish yourself further into the corner of the desk hoping against hope that johnny won’t give you away. thankfully, johnny straightens up from behind the desk with his most charming customer service grin “sorry pal, i’ve no’ seen her. ‘s only me on the desk the day.” the creep sounds nonplussed at johnny’s thick glaswegian accent (you’ve certainly never heard it ramped up like that in all the times you’ve spoken with him) and a little crestfallen when he starts to reply with “oh, perhaps you’d be good enough to -” johnny interrupts him, voice still pitched in a friendly manner but you can hear an undercurrent of tension “naw, sorry pal. i’m busy pitin’ the hems oan the tins. is there anythin’ i can dae fer ye mixin’ wise?” there’s a moment of silence and you watch johnny’s smile slowly slip off his face, his lips thinning into a stern line. “ah, um. no thank you. perhaps she will find me.” the creep sounds a little nervous now if the uncomfortable laugh he lets out is any indication. “aye right. well i’d best be lettin’ you get oan then eh?” johnny shifts on his feet slightly so his calf brushes up against your arm. after another tense moment you hear the lumbering footsteps of the giant move away from the desk. johnny looks down at you with a mischievous grin, “i’ve got to say bonnie girl, you look a right sight down there.” you only feel a little bit bad when you punch him lightly in the leg and he yelps in shock as the blush on your cheeks spreads down your neck. 

-

simon is less than impressed when you duck under the chain across the warehouse doors and flatten yourself against the noticeboard out of view from the shop floor. “you stupid? chains up which means the forklift is out so you need to be too.” he’s pissed off and thinking about how much paperwork he’ll have to fill out now because you didn’t bother to think about the cameras in your dash for safety. he takes a big step towards you before swerving off to the side to block the customer that has just appeared at the chain. “the fuck do you want?” he practically snarls. ‘this isn’t the fucking caff.” simon squares his shoulders and glares at the oversized dickhead that’s wasting his time. “well? can’t you fuckin’ read? staff access only. and you’re not staff so fuck off.” simon barks at the man, not letting him get a word in edgewise to start bitching about stock or whatever it is that he wants. simon couldn’t give a shit, he just wants the customer (and you) to fuck off promptly so he can start moving pallettes around. the customer just blinks and takes several steps back before turning away. you let out a shaky sigh and thank simon quietly. simon hums in acknowledgement and sweeps a critical eye down your lightly trembling form. “he botherin’ ya?” at your nod he hums again before jerking his head towards the back of the warehouse “go put a hi-vis on and sit in the office, i’ll come get you when i’m done on the ‘lift.”. when simon comes back into the office two paper cups of tea in hand thirty minutes later, you offer him a small smile and catch his lips twitch up briefly before he turns away to plunk his cup down on top of a cluttered filing cabinet. 

-

price practically walks into you as you come flying around the end of the plumbing aisle. it’s unusual to see you so far away from the customer service desk and looking so flustered. “alright, love?” his hand is on your elbow as he asks. you crane your neck round to look behind you, too worried about that customer to enjoy his large warm hand on your bare skin. price straightens up and drops his hand away from you when he spots a customer behind you, in his opinion the customer is moving a little too fast to be considered casual. price bristles slightly when he catches the dark look on the gentleman’s face. oh no, he doesn’t like the look of this one at all. especially when you look at price and mouth “help” quickly. price steps forward and puts you at his back, blocking the creep from getting any closer. “can i help you, mate?” his gruff voice is just shy of sounding friendly and you watch his back muscles shift under the black polo top he’s wearing. “no thank you, i wanted to speak with the little woman some more.” god the customer is weird, you shudder a little at being referred to as a “little woman”. price shifts to block the customer’s view of you more fully as he does you notice the back of price’s neck has gone a little red. “not possible. i need her for a job.” price’s words sound like they’re being ground out through gritted teeth in response. “i’m sure simon would be more than willing to help you.” you jolt a little when you spot simon at the customer’s shoulder. a man shouldn’t be able to move so silently in steel toed safety boots. you catch a brief wince flicker across the customer’s face when simon’s hand comes down on his shoulder, slightly too hard to be entirely polite. “ah, um, yes. perhaps that’s for the best.” simon leads the customer away and you step up beside price to thank him. he looks deadly serious when he turns to face you “any time love.” his stern blue stare softens slightly and you’re sure you catch his gaze flicker to your mouth briefly before he clears his throat and turns away “c’mon then. back to the returns desk with you.”. 

- -

AN: i have very much hidden from customers in the warehouse and behind the paint desk at B&Q. don’t be like reader (or me) and hide in the goods-in area, you will get shouted at for it. 

translation for johnny’s scots: “pitin’ the hems oan” = putting the hems on, meaning to put something in order or to restrain something/someone.

All the jokes about Ken and horses are good but I just wanna say it's such a good parallel to how actual young men get swept into misogyny and the patriarchy.

Like they're told to believe it means men get to be cool and manly and have this power but with that comes extremely rigid commands of what they can be as a man and a cycle of self hatred for never matching those gender roles perfectly. Patriarchy tells men that if they just do exactly what is expected of them, then they get all the "cool stuff" that comes with. That doesn't work though when there's only a small group that actually gets that power, but men will keep trying to fit into those roles in hopes that they can.

In the end there are no horses or the myth men are told, it's just endless cycles of self hatred and ingroup fighting.

That viral post that's going around about how people who write "book quality" mlm fic are too "normal" to publish and have real jobs so only "weird" people publish their "shitty" fanfic is so completely out of touch with reality and I am giving a massive side eye to everyone reblogging it.

Not only is it completely, easily verifiably untrue (you cannot enter any professional writing space without tripping over a dozen grizzled scifi writers who got their start by filing off the serial numbers and publishing their Star Trek fanfic even going back decades ago??? it's a whole thing?? plus how can you look at the mlm category on Amazon right now and say with a straight face that people aren't publishing shitty Spirk and Stucky fanfic??? Oh, honey...) it's also the perfect example of this kind of sneering elitism that true artists would never sully themselves by seeking profit, they do it only for the purity of the thing that always somehow leads back to, "no one should be paid to make art, actually."

The only reason you're seeing more published fanfic right now has nothing to do with the idealistic purity of your hypothetical government employee written smut of the past vs the debased scribbles of those awful straights of today and everything to do with the fact that a) self-publishing has created a voracious readership that wants a ton of content so it's become a viable, flexible income stream for many, especially disabled people b) anyone can publish now with self-publishing tools so there are less gatekeepers and c) lockdown got a lot of people into fandom and therefore writing who never tried it before.

And if you really think there's no "shitty" published mlm and no "book-quality" m/f writing out there that started as fanfic, then you are clearly not a reader so why are you even talking about this?

i'm going to scream i got accused of being a transmisogynist by someone on twitter because of this specific part of my t4t steddie art

"are you alright [name]?"

your f/o speaks in a soft tone, calling out to you- pulling you out of your dark train of thoughts. your mind wanders but ultimately, your mind is filled with thoughts of your f/o as you rant to them, feeling comfortable with them and in their arms. your f/o's gaze softens, hurt you were thinking these things. your f/o pulls you closer to them, stroking your head softly

"it's okay now, i'm here and i won't leave you, ever."

the softness in their voice made you smile as you hugged your f/o back, feeling more at peace with them. you felt safe, you felt reassured, but most of all, you felt happy. your f/o will always be there for you- no matter the relation; romantic, familial, platonic- what matters most is they get to see you smile. you will get through this, tomorrow will be a new day.

[proshippers aren't welcome here.]

(transferred from @/sea-of-yume)

6x15 | East

I STILL CAN'T GET OVER HOW IN THE BEGINNING, CALE PUSHED EVERYONE AWAY. You may say it's because of how "dangerous" and "trouble packed" their journey will be in the story later on— BUT. I JUST CANT HELP BUT FEEL LIKE MAYBE , JUST MAYBE. He didn't want them to be affected by his "curse" (side effect of WS) whether he knew about it or not. Just consider the fact that he KNOWS what will happen to them and how they'll be fighting for a better world and it'd be MUCH better if he's not there. Just in case he worsens whatever will happen.

He's such an unreliable narrator <3 the Worst Kind Ever.

I’ve been thinking nonstop about a post @nouverx made on March 3rd where Alastor asks “what country” the ace aro flag was, and my brain naturally made a meme about it.

Rosie jump-scared him with it one night in the December of 2016, and he said yes for the sake of his sanity (post 1933 world maps are hard, okay)

the bitches in question are c!roier to me. btw. (also pac)

bad_day.mp3

(Audio taken from this tumblr post)

Alfred's gift giving habits at Christmas time fall into two categories

He was so busy that forget about Christmas until 48hrs before when his Google alert reminded him. He tossed his black card at some terrified intern with a "ya know...just get whatever you think the former British empire would want". So everyone gets a summer sausage/Wisconsin cheese gifts basket that costs more then what the average person makes in a month

Everyone gets very heartfelt gift that he specifically picked out for them based on one 10 minute conversation they had 5 years ago. Every time this happens everyone is thrown for a loop because honestly, everyone in the family assumes there is always only a 45-55% chance Alfred is actually paying attention to them when they are talking to him. When in reality he is always listening to them and its just that its rare he actually dose anything with the information he has collected

entirely inspired by @kaadaaan's post here

18+ only please and thank you

john soap mactavish and his trichophilia (body hair fetish)

john "soap" mactavish x f!reader drabble; 322 words.

--

johnny who shoves his entire face into your armpit, completely uncaring of how you squirm as his nose tickles the stubble that sits there and mutters about how "it'd be so much better if ye just let it grow oot like it's s'posed tae" as his hand works furiously up and down his cock.

johnny who when you waxed for the first (and only time) in your relationship/situationship/fwb deal for a holiday abroad was so upset that you'd stripped your cunt bald that he refused to touch your pussy at all and made you suck his cock while petting the hair at the nape of your neck as you worked your mouth over him.

johnny who routinely throws out your razors and hair removal cream and denies doing it when you ask.

johnny who strokes the line of hair that leads down from your belly button into your knickers over and over until his fingers dip below the elastic to play with the curls on your cunt.

johnny who licks a long wet stripe over the hair on your calf when you finally give up even trying to shave your legs at all as he lavishes you in kisses from the ankle up.

johnny who when he runs his thumbs over your nipples is fucking delighted to find the few sparse hairs that grow there and spends endless minutes pinching and pulling at your tits being so careful not to pull out a single hair.

johnny who spends hours face down in your cunt with the curls of your pubic hair tickling his mouth, nose, and cheeks when he rubs his entire face over you.

johnny who when he comes inside of you immediately drops a hand between your legs to feel the mess he made and strokes his fingers over the hair between your legs until you're shifting against his hand, begging for him to fuck you with his fingers.

-- taglist for here be kink: @kaadaaan ; @acenby-weirdo ; @waves-against-a-cliff